The Adventure of The Conjurer's Trick
by AnthonyJH
Summary: Upon returning to Baker Street after some time away, Watson finds Holmes fresh off a case. There's no rest for the wicked however as an early letter hints at the start of a most sensational case for the famous consulting detective. Story in progress. Please leave some feedback whether you like it or not. Thank you.
1. Part 1 - A Stranger Comes

Sherlock Holmes

and the adventure of

The Conjurers Trick

Part 1

Upon looking back over my years at Baker Street I am faced with a plethora of bizarre and quite often, exceptionally unique cases in which I have had the honour of assisting my dear friend Sherlock Holmes. So large is the number, that it has taken the course of many years to curate my notes and extract the most noteworthy for publication. Many of these cases have of course made the daily papers, even gracing headlines of the more prestigious news outlets, while as always rarely giving any mention to the indomitable detective who had made such a difference to the outcome. Naturally with journalists however, in the attempt to fit such finer detail into often so fewer allocated columns, the true character of said cases are lost. One such case which immediately springs to my mind is that of the conjurer's trick, in which the facts that led to the unforgettable arrest were somewhat over shadowed by the final, extraordinary outcome of the case. Now that such time has passed, I feel as though the facts are about ready to pass into the public domain.

During late August of 87', I was en-route back to our humble lodgings at Baker Street after returning from a short sabbatical of some two weeks, where by I had attended a series of lectures at the university of Edinburgh. These talks had been regarding the treatment of tuberculosis based upon the acclaimed research of the British born, German professor, Robert Koch. Although I had missed the company of my companion and his exhilarating profession during my time away, I had rather enjoyed the change in climate which came with the trip. Trading the sprawling and endless metropolis of London for that of the Scottish capital came as a refreshing change for me as I've never much enjoyed the warmer months in our home town. Edinburgh with its location much further north offered an invigorating and refreshing break from the stuffy cauldron of London in the summer time. That summer particularly had been much hotter then previous years which seemed to only be amplified among the close and humid streets of London. The smoke hung low over the tops of the buildings and seemed to cause the air to thicken and hang heavy, as though it clung to the inside of ones chest.

It was late morning by the time the hansom bringing me from King's Cross arrived at Baker Street and upon stepping out of the carriage onto the bustling footpath which lay before our rooms, I happened to glance up to observe Sherlock Holmes through the windows, pacing back and forth across the sitting room like that of a sentry on guard. Given my familiarity with his habits I immediately jumped to the conclusion that some important matter must be weighing heavy upon his mind, this of course being a case of great complexity. As I have become somewhat of Holmes's unofficial biographer, and never wanting to miss any detail, I quickly settled my fair with the driver before hurrying myself inside. Upon entering I found my friend just as I had observed him from the street, marching from one side of the room to the other, head sunk on his chest, hands clasped tight behind his back. His brow was drawn thickly down in a harsh look of contemplation while his eyes were fixed in a sharp, cold and yet vacant stare, as was his manner when working through a problem. It became apparent to me that my absence had not caused my friend to ease from his work as I noted numerous books sprawled out across the sofa, opened to what appeared to be random pages relating to trinkets and jewels, along with a pile of balled up news papers in the corner. His pipe also sat upon the fireplace next to his Persian slipper half empty of tobacco, while his violin lent against his chair. All of these observations were signs pointing to my friends habits during an investigation. It then occurred to me that so deep in thought was my friend, that at first he seemed oblivious to my presence and it was only after addressing him that he broke from this self induced, trance like state.

'Putting the finishing touches to a case are we?' I asked, removing my hat and comfortably settling myself down into an armchair.

'No my dear Watson. Starting a fresh.' He replied with the excitement he could only receive from his profession. 'I understand your confusion given the sorry state you have arrived back to find our rooms in. During your absence I have been lending my expertise to a case of forgery in Greenwich. The recently married Lord Whitley had not long ago purchased an exquisitely beautiful diamond necklace for his newly acquired bride. To his misfortune however, it had turned out to be an exceptionally well crafted forgery. The case was some what stimulating at the beginning albeit, rather transparent once one had acquired all the essential details. It turned out that his Lordship had been taken in by the two Ferguson brothers of South Africa who have been making their way across the continent, posing at jewellers of a prosperous gold mine back in their homeland. I recalled numerous reports of such forgeries in the news papers over the past year which all bore their fingerprints, so upon attaining a description of these two men and the forgery in question, I was quick to identify who they were from Lord Whitley's statement. With the help of Lestrade we were able to located the brothers and arrested them just last night. No doubt they will face harsh punishment for causing such a stir among the hierarchy of England and of Europe. It was only in the small hours in which which I returned and had barely awoken this morning before receiving this letter.'

As he spoke, he gestured to his revolver upon the table - no doubt left there after the nocturnal activities of previous night - beneath this bizarre paperweight lay an open envelope. I lent forward, picking up the letter with great intrigue. The envelope was of a beautiful paper stock, lightly tinted and with an elegantly smooth texture. I half expected it to be that of a ladies but upon removing the message and flattening it out against my knee I was surprised to read the name Eugene S. Andrews. There were only a few lines of text, but for what they were, someone had clearly meant to impress by them. The hand writing was ever so graceful and written with extreme care taken to each word. Finally, it culminated with the most detailed and elaborate signature.

'Prey Watson, do read aloud.' Requested Holmes. 'It is always a good thing to refresh oneself with the details, especially through the words of another.'

'Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes,' it began, 'It is with urgent need in which I seek your council as I fear I have fallen victim to a heinous crime. I much prefer however to divulge the details to you in person. My livelihood is based on the strictest secrecy and so I would never trust the details to the easily lost form of a letter, and even less to a telegram. This is also why I have forgone reporting my case to the official authorities and instead seek your assistance in this matter. If it is agreeable with you, I shall call at midday today, at which point we may discuss the particulars further. Yours faithfully, Eugene S. Andrews.'

'No rest for the wicked, aye Watson.' Said Holmes with a chuckle, 'And this case certainly seems as though it will be a lot more stimulating then that of a forgery.'

'It is definitely a cryptic letter,' I replied, 'but how on earth can you deduce that it will be all that stimulating from only a few short lines?'

'Why, by studying what we already know of the author. Tell me Watson, what can you deduce from the letter?'

'Well, the most obvious fact is that the author is a man and whom ever this man is, he is very much the showman given his extravagant style, that much is for certain. His style of writing makes mine look like that of a commoner in comparison. He also appears to be fairly well to do considering the stationery used. It costs a pretty penny for paper stock like this and so only a person with money to spare would offer themselves such luxuries. Beyond that, I am at a loss.'

'Come Watson, surely you know my methods well enough to take your examination further." Said my companion with an ever so slight grinning in condescension. "It is true that this is both a man of education and of money, but we can go further and safely infer that he is a performer of a theatrical nature. This can be read in his flamboyant style of writing, as even when under the weight of his current situation, he takes care in his presentation. Seldom is the case when a gregarious man such as an actor, does not carry that character through into all aspects of his life. The overly imposing way in which he signs his name can only confirm what I have said as most typical gentlemen would show more reserve. This theory of our mystery acquaintance being a performer is further justified in the words which he chooses. He speaks of his livelihood being based on that of the strictest secrecy, and that he is unwilling to take matters to the police. This directs us to several professions. It could be that he is an agent of the state, seeking my assistant on a political or national security matter. This seems unlikely however as it is very rare that such secrets are trusted to a member of the public, even one such as myself. No, no, the powers at be like to keep the skeletons tightly locked away as best they can. Another idea is that our gentleman himself is involved in some kind of criminal vice. I won't entertain this theory however as it seems highly improbable that someone of that nature would seek my assistants given my association with the police. The most probably hypothesis therefore is that this man is that of a conjurer. Such a man undoubtedly has a certain theatrical flare which matches our inspection of the writing, and also fits well with his desire not to involve the loose lipped officers of Scotland Yard. It is simplicity itself my friend.'

'Astonishing,' I ejaculated, 'Absolutely astonishing. As is always the case, once you've explained your train of thought, the conclusion is so obvious that it's hard to see how I didn't come up with it myself.'

'Well Watson,' continued Holmes, taking up his pipe and lighting a match, 'in the spirit of theatricality and our mystery conjurer, let me take my theory into the realms of the fortune teller. This gentleman is a tall fellow of light build. He is of a fair complexion with tidy, dark, combed back hair. His face is long and somewhat eagle like in its features, with sharp and observant eyes. Of course such a man bears a moustache, finely trimmed and as black as the top hat which sits atop his head. His attire was minimalist and elegant, slightly more formal then the every day. Walking, he uses an ornate, ebony cane, and I can also say that he prefers cigarettes rather then a pipe.

I sat back in my chair with a start. 'How on earth! To come to the conclusion that he is a performer from the letter is one thing, but surely Holmes you can't expect me to believe you deduced all of that also. The cane. The cigarettes. Him moustache. This can only be speculation, no more then guess work - ' at that moment my words were cut short by a sharp tug at the bell, followed by three loud authoritative knocks at the door. Holmes looked at me with a mischievous grin and chuckled quietly to himself.

'If I'm not mistaken, I believe that the clock has just struck midday.'


	2. Part 2 - The Conjurer's Trick

Sherlock Holmes

and the adventure of

The Conjurers Trick

Part 2

There was no explanation needed for Holmes's bafflingly deduction as moments later the page brought in a card, followed by a gentleman fitting his description so perfectly that for a moment I myself had strange thoughts that my friend possessed unworldly powers. This was but a brief lapse in character though as I soon caught up with Sherlock's method, and as with many of his deductions once all the links in the chain are known they are so very obvious to the simplest of laymen. Holmes had simply described the man as he had pulled up at our door in a cab, a sight which would easily be visible from our sitting room windows. As he would put it, simplicity itself.

'Come in,' implored Holmes, gesturing towards an empty chair, 'Mr Andrews I presume? Prey, do make yourself at home. I'm ever so anxious to hear what you have to consult me about.'

With a slight nod of acknowledgement towards Holmes, our guest hastily made his way across the room to an empty armchair which he gracefully lowered himself into. His hands twitched nervously as did his stiff lips and it was everything it seemed for him to hold his composure. 'Easy Mr Andrews,' Sherlock Holmes said in his most soothing and almost hypnotically reassuring tone, 'there is nothing to be gained from losing ones mind. May I offer you a cigarette or perhaps a drink to calm your nerves?'

With that Mr Andrews gave a second nod to which Holmes extended out a small silver cigarette case. His nervous, spindly finders reached out and took one of the short white sticks, giving it a few light taps before drawing it to his lips. Holmes lit a match and soon, after several minutes in silent smoking our unusual guest spoke. 'I must first apologise for my manner. It's taken all that I have to break down as surely this is an end to my career. I feel as though I am between a rock and a hard place. If I do nothing then surely I am doomed to humiliation but if I report this to the police I will equally be subjected to questions that if answered may expose myself in other way. Either case it appears to me as though my secrets are destined to come to light, much to the joy and entertainment of competitors who have much to gain. Please Mr Holmes, I know of your esteemed reputation for consulting people in dyer situations as well as your tight lipped position to avoiding scandal. You must help me.' And with that he sunk back into the chair with the posture of a man without hope, his superior and sophisticated vizard in tatters.

'Come now,' assured Holmes in his calm way, 'All cannot be as hopeless as you say. Prey, tell me what it is that has been stolen and we shall see if we can shed any light upon this problem of yours yet.'

A convulsion of surprise shot through our visitor and he sat straight up in his chair. 'Stolen? How did you know - '

'Mr Andrews, I believe you said it yourself, that my reputation precedes me does it not? Before you had even graced Baker Street with your elegant step we had already deduced so very much about you, had we not Watson?' Homes nodded to me which I reciprocated. 'From your letter alone we had a strong theory that you were a conjurer, a deduction I will not bore you with at present. This was further confirmed when I observed you leaving the cab from our window. Men of a theatrical nature are masters of deception upon a stage, but upon the stage of life, they are as open as one of my books over there. With what little you have said so far, I find it highly probably that you are the victim of a theft, as naturally if a death were involved it would take a very callous man to only think about his career.'

A slight sigh and sign of relief came across our visitor. 'I had feared that the rumours about you were exaggerated, but in actual fact they scarcely live up to the fact. Everything you have said is as true. As I've yet to truly introduce myself, my name is Eugene S. Andrews and I am the stage magician currently booked for a run of shows over at the Adelphi Theatre. Since opening two weeks ago we've had tremendous success, nearly selling out each night. Well, naturally it is my interest to improve my craft and to construct the next great illusion which will be remembered for years to come, permanently securing my name among the greats. Needless to say that I feel as though I have found this infamous trick and up until yesterday evening, I have been working to fine tune my routine. Here lies my dilemma, as to relinquish the facts I too must relinquish the secrets behind my method which is why I am hesitant to approach the official force. I therefore present myself before your council and request that I have your most solemn word that whatever you may come to learn, passes no further.'

'My sir, your secret is safe with both myself and my associate here, Dr Watson. Both of us have secrets sworn away in the depths of our minds that if they were to be broken in upon, would have all of Europe in an uproar. You have our word.'

'Very well,' said Mr Andrews, 'Well for me to continue I must explain what it is that has been stolen, as you so rightly guessed. In fact it is really two things that have gone missing, an employee of mine along with the lower half of an illusion, a chest of considerable size, the former I strongly suspect as being the thief of the latter. I will elaborate on this man presently, but first if you both would, just think sir's if through some unforeseeable, mystical circumstances a person was to be cut in half? Would this now amaze and baffle you? Well this is the performance I was working on with this traitor along with my manager Mr Percy Selbit, before the theft last night.

'The chest in question is of an unusual nature. It is rather more elaborate then your average box but most notable of all are the two holes cut in one end. These are for the missing man, who I might say, is as unique as the chest itself. He is a dwarf from the orient and it his feet these two holes are for. It is my fear that another magician has come into contact with this traitor and extracted my method along with part of my equipment to attempt to beat me to the stage, thus stripping me of the honour of being the first to perform such a stunt. As you can imagine in my line of work, we keep our secrets and so if another were to steal a trick, it would only be one man's word against another.'

Sherlock Holmes sat quietly for some time, puffing up thick clouds of smoke which covered the hard features of his stricken face. At last he broke the tense silence,'This is the most stimulating of cases. Prey, do tell me how this dwarf came to be in your confidence? Have you had previous work with him?'

'No, not at all. In fact it was only a week ago that I had made his acquaintance. He was brought to me by my manager who had been on the look out for men of his stature. From what I gather he was a street Arab when Percy had found him and was exceedingly thankful to be taken in by us. His English was broken but of the few days we worked together there was not one when he did not show thanks. We allowed him to take a lofty corner back stage for a bed and of an evening he would play cards and drink with the other stage hands. For the time it seemed like we had a loyal confederate. Only now do I see that it was all false.'

Holmes sat forward in his chair, resting his arms on his knees and knotting his fingers together with the look of intrigue riddled across his features. 'So you say that he was introduced by your manager. Can you describe this Percy Selbit to me?'

'Of course. He too is fairly new to myself. He approached me with the offer of management no more then three months back, shortly after I had secured my current contract at the Adelphi Theatre. He is a simple man, clean shaven and finely featured, of an average physique. He dresses modestly and for lack of a better word, he is a rather plain man. If it weren't for his ingenious mind I can't say that I would give him a second though after a meeting.'

'Ingenious mind you say?' Questioned Holmes.

'Yes, he definitely is well suited to be a magician's manager. His mind works almost as my own when it comes to performance. I dare say that he himself would love to step out upon stage if the chance offered itself. But I fear we are getting rather off topic here. Please sir, what do you suggest we do about my stolen illusion and traitorous employee?'

Placing his pipe down carefully on the table, Sherlock Holmes rose with the air of confidence and authority which seemed calming and comforting to many of his clients, while at the same time conveying the underlying excitement and stimulation he gains from the more unique cases of his career. 'My dear sir, your case intrigues me greatly and I will start my investigations immediately. No doubt somewhere along my many outstretched webs into the criminal world, somebody knows of this matter and can shed some light on an otherwise most peculiar crime.'

Eugene Andrews rose to meet Holmes with much vigor, appearing to have found new hope in my friends words. Ringing Sherlock Holmes by the hand, he was as much a new man when compared to the hopeless soul who originally entered our rooms. 'Thank you. Thank you a thousand times over. Please, is there anything I can do to assist?'

'Not at the moment sir,' replied Holmes, placing a comforting hand on the gentleman's shoulder, 'Take your leave, have a restful day and I will start my inquiries. If I have any news I will be sure to telegraph to you at the theatre.'

Barely had our guest departed when Sherlock Holmes rushed to his desk where upon rifling through several draws he pulled out a scrap of paper and began to scribbled down some notes. Soon after he rang the bell and the paper was taken off to the telegraph office. As calm as ever, and as though the momentary burst of energy had never occurred, Holmes slumped himself back down into his favourite armchair, taking back his pipe and continuing to puff away.

'Well?' I inquired, 'What do you make of things?

'It's hard to say. The way I see it, there are a number of theories and any one of them could be at play. What our friend suspects may well be the case. His dwarf confederate may well have stolen part of the illusion for sale to the highest bidder however - '

'However what?'

'Never mind. I feel as though the weather outside has cooled off a little. I think that I might take in some fresh air if you'd care to join me for an afternoon ramble?'

'I have professional matters to attend to now that I am back.' I answered with heavy regret. 'Errands to run before I can continue business as usual.'

'Very well. Perhaps we shall meet here for dinner to discuss the case further.'

And with that Holmes sprung to his feet and was out the door in a flash.


	3. Part 3 - Casting The Net

Sherlock Holmes

and the adventure of

The Conjurers Trick

Part 3

I was engaged for much of the day upon my own errands and enquiries, albeit of a much less exciting and adventurous nature. It was well into the evening by the time I made my way back to Baker Street and was already preparing my apologies for keeping my friend from his dinner, but to my surprise it was he who was destined to keep me from mine. Anxiously I waited for well over an hour until the point came where I felt as though our late supper would be unfair upon Mrs Hudson and so asked for her to prepare something small for myself. I attempted to pass the time with a novel but this turned out to be an exercise in futility as it seemed that with every passing minute, my nerves and thoughts turned more to my missing friend. It wasn't uncommon for Holmes to skip meals or work irregular hours when hot upon the scent of some clue, but nevertheless, still it disturbed me greatly to be left in the dark.

Most of the evening had passed and it was nearly eleven before Holmes returned. To my surprise however it was not the triumphant entrance I was expecting as he had rather harshly flung the door open and marched in with utter defeat drawn across his tried, eagle-like features. He walked back and forth several times muttering incoherently to himself for a number of minutes, completely enveloped within his own world until finally, his eyes rested upon my shocked and slightly irritated expression.

'Ah, my dear Watson. A thousand apologies.' he said in his calm and apologetic way, seating himself opposite me and drawing his pipe from the depths of his coat pocket, 'Ah, you've eaten. Good, as I fear I shall not. It is my way you know - much to your dislike - to allow my body to starve so that the brain can be allowed access to all the blood needed to conduct my work.'

Not long did it take for the annoyance that I had with my companion to resided and I took instead to inquiring after his activities of the day. 'Have you made any progress? You seemed rather involved with something when you arrived back just now.'

'Unfortunately, Watson, there has been none. Or at least no progress forward in the investigation.'

'How do you mean?'

'Well, for the moment at least I feel as if the investigation has reached an interval, and it is only once the actors return for the second half that fresh facts and theories will emerge. You see after we parted earlier I began my investigation into the theory of theft, as suspected by our client and so made several inquiries with a number of my contacts who dwell among the underbelly of society. These may yet to turn out results but considering the unique nature of this supposed theft, one might have hoped that it had been too fantastic of a secret to be kept completely locked away behind tight lips.'

'Indeed.'

'You may also have noted that after out client had left, I sent a telegram. This was to make some enquiries into this character Mr Percy Selbit. You may not know, but before you and I met, I had helped a theatre manager with a spot of criminal black mail. He has since always been obliged to lend his services in return. Sometimes in the form of information, other times in the form of tickets to my favourite musicians when they venture to town. It was he who I telegraphed and await a reply. If there is something of note about this Percy Selbit, he shall be the one to know.'

'I hardly see how the manager has any connection. Surely if he had, he too would have fled as the dwarf has, for he has much more to lose from matters coming to light then the beggar turned confederate.'

'Very astute of you, Watson. It is simply a net I am casting. I would prefer to see my game fish and tackle him with a rod and reel, but at present I must cast a wide net and see what I can haul in.'

'Well this seems fairly regular of you Holmes, in fact it seems rather bland in comparison to other cases I have witnessed you work upon.'

Holmes smiled. 'It has been rather "bland",' he said as he leaned back in his chair, grinning with that hint of mischief that I knew so well, which lingers deep beneath his calm and composed appearance, 'that is why I thought that this evening I might take my investigations undercover. This is in fact, the reason why I missed our dinner date. I took a cab across to the Adelphi Theatre where by I started to examine and observe the comings and goings of the place, and the people who are employed there. There is a wealth of knowledge to be found if you have the right questions followed by a shilling or two. When next we converse with our friend Mr Andrews, I may have a few suggestions as to the company he keeps, but I digress. After I felt as though I had found out all I could from an external examination, I commenced an internal one.'

'You broke in!'

'Nothing of the sort.' He chuckled. 'I simply brought a ticket. You see, after our interview at lunch time, I sent word to our conjurer that he should continue on as if nothing had changed. I explained that the best chance to spot clues that are unusual, is to keep his habits as usual as possible. Therefore I took up my seat in the balcony and stayed for his performance.'

This was too much for me and nearly caused me to choke on my drink. I burst into laughter at the thought of Sherlock Holmes viewing a magician perform. I could think of nothing worse for the performer in question then to have my friend sit there with his mind set upon solving each and every trick, as though each were a criminal equation. Holmes too seemed to agree with me as he just sat back in his armchair, with a grin from ear to ear, puffing up big clouds of smoke.

'Don't worry, Watson,' speaking in a most sarcastic fashion, 'Our client has no idea that I was present. I fear it may have had an adverse effect on his performance had he known. I shall say nothing of the predictable way he concealed those doves, nor the unfortunately timed disappearance through the trap door at centre stage. We shall consider all of his trade secrets, "a secret".'

'So what now?' I finally asked.

'Now we wait, and hope for some fresh developments in the morning.'


	4. Part 4 - The Arrival Of Lestrade

Sherlock Holmes

and the adventure of

The Conjurers Trick

Part 4

The following morning I rose, tired and weary after a restless nights sleep, and staggering into the bright and glaring light of our sitting room, I noticed a number of the mornings papers lay out across the place, covering much of the floor and sofa accompanied by the pungent smell of strong, stale tobacco smoke which lingered in the air. It had become apparent that Holmes had barely moved from the spot in which I left him the previous evening, and instead involved himself in one of his deep thinking, meditative, all night vigils. Throwing a pile of papers from my chair I relapsed back into the spot when last we spoke, rang the bell for breakfast to be served and began to read one of the news papers that were to hand.

'I just can't make heads of tails of it, Watson.' Holmes seemed to answer to a question which although was on my mind, had not yet been verbalized. 'I have exhausted every rat, confederate, busybody and criminal associate I know of, along with my entire supply of fine shag, but I've heard not a single hint as to a stolen illusion. From what it seems, this whole investigation has been an illusion in itself. However, although it seems less and less likely to be a theft, no other theory stands. Still, my mind stagnates with inactivity and I stand by what I have said in the past. The most stimulating a case, is often that where by everything works against you. Mark my words, Watson, I shall have my man.'

'You know what it is that I think of your excessive consumption of tobacco along with your lack of food and sleep.' I murmured from behind my paper. 'Perhaps with a little of some and less of the other you will have a breath of fresh air to your senses.

'My dear Watson, you mean well but these have been my habits for many a year before we made each others acquaintance and they have proven time and time again to be effective. Besides, I'd never forgive myself if a key point were to arise and I was away in my dreams.'

'I assumed you dreamt crime.' I joked.

'So I do,' chuckled Holmes, 'So I do.'

Mrs Hudson had brought in the breakfast which I happily indulged myself with along with Holmes, although one could hardly say he ate enough to sustain the average man. He picked away at his eggs and ham, half nibbling some toast but mostly pushed his food about the plate like a child who had no interest in it at all. It appeared as though our day was to be a quiet one after all, of patient waiting. However, it seemed destined to change rapidly. Mrs Hudson had barely cleared our breakfast before we heard the undeniably heavy, fast paced step of Inspector Lestrade climbing our stair. A moment later the door was opened as he excused himself into our chamber.

'Morning Lestrade,' announced Sherlock Holmes. 'Surely you're not here for more information on the Ferguson brothers forgery case. No, you look far too flustered for that. Prey, take the spare space on the sofa and catch you breath. Don't mind my nest of papers. Can we ring for a late breakfast for you?'

'Thank you Mr Holmes but I mustn't.' Panted the inspector as he leant forward with his arms on his knees drawing in long deep breaths. 'I've come direct to you this morning from a most singular and sinister scene, hence the state in which you see me.'

'Whatever can it be?' I interrupted.

Lestrade, recovering more and more by the minute sat back on the sofa and picking up a folded paper, began to fan himself. 'It began for me this morning when upon arriving at the precinct there was a telegraph waiting upon my desk. It had arrived not long before I from what I was told by the clerk. When I opened it I knew at once that you should be inevitably consulted.' For a moment it seemed, the inspector lowered his guard and showed an honest appreciation for my friends gifts. Quickly he recomposed himself, 'I mean to say that it occurred to me that you would be a likely person to consult, considering your extensive knowledge of the unique and bizarre when it comes to crime and criminality.'

'Indeed I am.' Replied Holmes, humouring the detective. 'Before you continue, do you by chance have the telegram at hand?'

The inspector drew a slightly discoloured, crumpled piece of folded paper from his inner most pocket and proceeded to toss it across to my friend. It read as follows:

Inspector Lestrade. Come at once to Temple Pier. Corpse found washed up and stuffed into a trunk. Excavation of trunk in progress. Constable Jacobs

'Hallo, hallo!' ejaculated Holmes in a start. 'Why, Watson, what did I tell you. Patients was all we needed for the single clue to find its way to us and shines a light on the whole situation. I'll admit not by any means of my own, but a critical clue none the less.'

'What ever do you mean?' I replied in amazed confusion. 'You don't mean to say that you know all simply from these few words?'

'I will admit, not all, but enough to begin to take action. This single telegram has made all other theories obsolete while at the same time confirming only one. I will assume that you too, Watson, have come to the same conclusion that I have in that this telegram speaks of our missing man. I'd say that this certainly refutes any theory of theft, after all, why discard of the object which was wanted, and with the thief inside nonetheless. No, no. I am sure of it.'

Lestrade had sat stunned to silence for a good few minutes while my companion and I had been jolted into our investigation once more. His shock turned to confusion which in turn shifted to irritation until finally he burst in.

'What is all this?' He interrupted. 'I come to you for some council and instead I am ignored while the two of you talk as though you are a days work ahead of me. What is it that you know which I don't and how have you come to know it?'

'Ah Lestrade, I apologize. You know my ways and you must forgive my ignoring you for you know I mean no offence. You are one of the sharpest minds at the yard but if you feel as though we are a days work ahead of you, it is because we are a days work ahead of you. I myself have been on the scent of this man since yesterday afternoon, and this in most certainly my man.'

The inspector sat up in a start. 'How do you know of this man then, and why is it that you are already investigating him? Or a better yet, how can you be so certain that this is in fact your man, for I have yet to tell you anything of what I found when I arrived at the scene. Surely you are getting far too bold and over confident in your abilities Mr Holmes.'

'Tell me, Lestrade, was this man you found stuffed into a chest by any chance, a dwarf?'

I have never seen a look so ridged with astonishment in me life as that which was represented upon our guests face that moment. 'With his feet protruding from holes cut into the side?' Holmes added with an ever increasing grin.

'What devilry is this you are playing with Mr Holmes!' Exclaimed Lestrade. 'This is without a doubt, other worldly.'

Rarely have I witnessed Holmes laugh with such deep and genuine laughter which I too would have taken part in at our guests expense had I also not slightly been taken in by this fantastic development. 'My dear Lestrade, all shall be revealed in due course, but for now let me hear what is is you observed down by the pier.'

The inspector composed himself, shifted his position on the sofa and lit a cigarette, which with several deep puffs seemed to restore himself to the direct man that he is known to be. He then drew a scruffy notebook from his coat pocket and began to run through all of his findings upon his systematic inspection of the scene. From the protruding feet to the unique and flamboyant construction of the chest, finally ending upon a thorough description of the dwarf-like man within and how he suspected that he met his end by drowning. I shan't bore you with the details of the deceased as Holmes himself seemed to care little of his appearance. In fact he casually nodded along to the facts as they came out one by one as though he were already familiar with each of them. The only time in which he appeared to show any kind of intrigue was when Lestrade described the man as having a peaceful expression, something that struck myself odd also as from my knowledge, drowning is seldom a peaceful way to leave this world.

'So he drugged him.' Muttered Holmes.

'That is what I had suspected also,' replied the inspector, 'How else would he have ended up inside of a chest which was to be dumped into the river not to mention his final expression?'

Sherlock Holmes then proceeded to enlighten Lestrade as to how we came into the game for this missing man, albeit a heavily cherry picked account of the original case as stated to us by Mr Andrews. The three of us then spent several minutes mulling over all that had just occurred until finally the silence was broken.

'Well now, Inspector,' started Holmes as he rose from his chair with renewed energy after his sleepless night, 'I'd say that it's about time we got caught our fish.'

'And how do you suppose we do that? As I see it we're no closer to finding the man who put the dwarf in the box then we were before I arrived.'

'My dear Lestrade, you are forgetting that I am, as you put it, a day ahead of you, and so already have much of the information you so sorely need. If you trust me as well as you have done in the past, I can give you this man by lunchtime today. If you would be so kind as to nip back to the station and while there, collect a hand full of strong armed officers before returning to our rooms in an hour. This fellow will be a desperate and possibly unpredictable man who if we allow, will be away from us with little trouble. This interval will allow myself and Dr Watson some time to prepare. Prey, do have this note wired to Mr Andrews at the Adelphi Theatre while you are passing the telegraph office. It shall have them ready for when we arrive.'

At this point Lestrade left us, leaving myself to prepare for an adventurous and possibly dangerous day ahead. Holmes sat for a while longer in deep thought although now he seemed less serious in his expression which told me that his fish was on the hook, ready to be reeled in. He only spoke once.

'Watson, it might be worthwhile to pocket your revolver for this mornings business.'


End file.
